After Calvino's Invisible Cities:
Left to its own devices, Jugaad may persist for millenia, or it may collapse overnight. Encountering it on horseback, or the window of a passing plane, one receives the impression of a large, circular mass of continuing construction, of walkways, catwalks, half-opened doors, barricades, pulleys, rope, scaffolds decked with beads and coloured cloths [1]. From this substrate is carved out a series of landings, alleyways, roads, which are filled with an itinerary of baskets, livestock, vehicles, and people. Thus the illusion of separate buildings is created of Jugaad, where interior is conjugant with exterior, and visiting dignitaries are led to shake their heads in dismay. Observing from the lone tower of the station hotel [2], an ambassador writes: "This is a city of hopeless disorder, whose very foundations unmake themselves. This is a place where plans come to be undone."

Watching from below, those who use the streets believe a different story. To them, the hotel's lone tower is an oxymoron. For if all beings are imperfect in the eye of the divine, then the tower has consigned itself to a fixity of ruin. To them, to dwell is an act of affirmation in the continuous tense; every act of building is a constant state of striving towards perfection. Its ever-flowing streets, ironically, are the only things that do not change. Losing themselves in the crowd, the walker of Jugaad may permit themselves to direct their gaze upwards, occasionally glimpsing pockets of sky, which has remained the same shade ever since the city's first stones were laid [3]. Even its name, too, is subject to change. Come tomorrow, the dignitary in the hotel might find themselves trapped in an endless toponymic limbo, awakening in an entirely different city, or an entirely different part of the world [4].

[1] Outside the circular walls of the city, nothing else remains.

[2] The one complete building in the city, built long ago for a wayward prince, who once majored in architecture in the great cities of the East.

[3] The wily equivocator might realise that Jugaad is modelled after the shape of the sky, whose form has persisted since the age of the giants that shaped the world.

[4] The walker of the city treads the same path still, of course -- unaware that anything has happened at all.